Refuge from the Rain
by GeishaKitten
Summary: Shikamaru finds comfort in a special someone following the war's end. ShikaTema drabble.


**AN:** I was recently requested to write something featuring ShikaTema. I've never thought to or even tried to write anything with this pairing before, so this is a very experimental, write as it came to mind sort of drabble. Feedback will definitely be appreciated while I figure out how to potentially improve this or make it longer.

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Shikamaru hated the rain. Too many bad memories, and no clouds to get lost in to forget about them. And yet, here he was anyway, standing in front of the memorial stone honoring the sacrifice of his late father, one of many who had given their lives for the peace which the village now enjoyed. He'd known what the forecast was for the day and yet still he came, because at least then he'd be the only one there.

"He was someone I admired."

Shikamaru whipped around, surprised, although he somehow felt her before he even saw her or heard her voice. She was always such a strong presence in that way, her spirit impossible to ignore even for someone as apathetic as he had once been. The rain formed a thick falling veil around his umbrella which dimmed his view of her somewhat, but he could clearly see that she had brought no umbrella with her. Her thick gold hair clung to her face, just as her black dress was drenched with rain and clung tight to every curve of her body. He wondered if maybe he should be chivalrous and offer her the protection of his own umbrella, but it wouldn't do much good for her now.

"That's like you, to come out in the middle of a thunderstorm without an umbrella."

The corners of her lips turned up in an alluring smile, causing Shikamaru to temporarily forget about his private pain and his reasons for being there.

"Umbrellas are for wimps", she replied. "Anyway, we don't get much rain where I'm from so I might as well enjoy it."

"I hate the damn rain", Shikamaru muttered under his breath as he turned his gaze back to the cold, stone memorial. He was surprised yet again to feel her hand against his shoulder, her touch warm despite the icy cold rain. He turned to face Temari and saw something like compassion in her striking green eyes.

_Even the roughest woman, is tender to the man she loves._

Recalling his father's words caused Shikamaru to feel strangely shy, as though Shikaku were watching the two of them from the other side. He couldn't hold her gaze for very long, knowing that he might tear up due to the intensity of her gaze. She too knew what it was like to lose a father and yet have to move on as though it had never happened. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let her witness another moment of emotional fragility from him. Perhaps with her he didn't need to be the strong leader of team Asuma, but could be himself. So much had changed between the two of them since the war's end that he felt no need to put up a facade around her any longer.

Dropping his umbrella, he found himself wrapping his arms around her, pulling her so close that every last curve of her was in contact with him. Nothing came between them but the now soaking-wet folds of their clothing.

The rain poured relentlessly hard onto the both of them, but Shikamaru didn't find it quite so bothersome anymore.

"What happened to hating the rain now, huh genius?" Temari teased.

"Forget about it," Shikamaru replied before kissing her, quick and rough kisses at first that became slower and more gentle as the kiss deepened. When he finally broke contact, he picked up the wet umbrella and raised it over the two of them as he grabbed Temari's hand.

"Hey, just what do you think you're doing?"

Shikamaru smiled at the look of feigned annoyance on her beautiful face.

"We're going to my place to dry off, and get warmed up," he replied.

"Get warmed up, huh? I've got a feeling you've got more in mind than that", she answered with a smirk.

Staring at her once again, Shikamaru was struck by the fact that he had to choose over all women a troublesome beauty rather that the plain, safe, not too pretty type he had originally planned to marry in the future. He had no regrets though.

Arm in arm they left together.


End file.
